I Can't Promise That
by That-Fresh-Rain-Smell
Summary: Previously called 'Chan' for obvious reasons, rated for suggestiveness, but not descriptive, cute and...dark.


Title: Chan

Author: That-Fresh-Rain-Smell

Pairing: Severus Snape/ Harry Potter

Warning: Well, guess its called…don't be scared now…pedophilia…however you spell it…Harry's about 6 at the beginning….but I still loves it!!! But it's not too graphic, _at_ _all_. Just remember to keep your minds in the gutters. Teehee -

* * *

**Chan**

He had meant only to go, take what was his, what he was owed, and then leave. And he did, the first time. But he was back. It was like he couldn't get enough. And it didn't help that Potter encouraged his return, seemed to need it, _wanted_ it.

That first night he had gone into Number Four, Privet Drive, he had assumed Potter had done something terrible—to be placed in the broom closet. He hadn't really cared; though the way the Dursleys acted disgusted him, and he was happy to get away. He had slipped into the cupboard silently and taken the young, sleepy boy by the arm, apparated him to the room he had prepared just for this, and had taken the boys innocence.

Potter had been perfectly silent through the whole thing. He had muttered one word; "what…?" when Snape had taken him to the room, but was silenced by the mans gaze, and even more oddly, had _stayed_ silent. Snape had made it as painful as he could, and the boy had stayed quiet, though he _had_ cried, if silently. When he was finished Snape had taken him back to the cupboard and left him there, not expecting to return.

He had then gone home and watched Harry through a series of complex spells he had placed, waiting almost eagerly for Harry's repulsed, angered, disgusted reaction, but it never came. Instead Potter had lay down on his too-small cot and looked at the ceiling. Eyes open and vacant, hands behind head, Harry didn't seem to be feeling _anything_, and Snape decided that the experience was still sinking in, and continued to watch. He had watched Harry for a week until it was evident that Harry was watching for him, waiting for him to come back. He was staying up later and later, watching the door with as rapt attention as the Dursley boy watched the TV. Snape spent the next few days contemplating his next move until he decided on a course of action.

When at first the dark man had come in and grabbed him, somehow taking him to a new place without exiting through the door, Harry had been scared, then intrigued. By the time he was back in his cupboard; confused. He knew what had happened, knew he had been used, knew that he was now 'wrong' in many more ways, and yet, he wanted the man t return. He wanted it to happen again. He couldn't explain why, and he mulled over it until the thoughts of the other man consumed him too much for simple thought. He waited, hopeful, for him to return.

* * *

The boy was staring at him, now. Snape stared back just as steadily, wondering what he wanted. Then he shrugged. It didn't really matter what he wanted, now did it? Snape was about to…well, the proper word would be 'jump', but it seemed a bit…drastic. Well, that is what it was, he supposed. Snape was about to jump Harry, when the boy spoke up. Curse the child!

"I…I didn't think you would come back." He said quietly.

"What, did you want me to come back?" Snape said sarcastically. Harry looked down, cheeks red, and nodded. Now Snape _did_ jump him, only this time was even better than last time, because Harry was very open to learning new things, and Snape enjoyed teaching him very much. When Snape took him back to the cupboard and was about to leave, Harry grabbed his sleeve, looking up at him worriedly.

"Will you be back?" he asked, anxiously. Snape didn't need to ask him if he wanted him to come back, it was quite evident.

"Perhaps," he said carefully, knowing he was treading dangerous waters here. Harry looked like he was about to cry.

"Please—" he bit his small pink lips. "Please do. I don't—I mean…can you please come back? And sooner then last time?" Snape smiled thinly.

"We'll see." And then he was gone.

* * *

Snape did return, many times. Each time a smiling Harry greeted him, and they went away for hours at a time, always returning with a smile. Or at least, Harry was smiling. Snape found himself addicted to Harry, he couldn't seem to go a week without at least seeing him and two weeks just drove him mad. It was the same on Harry's side, of course. They both seemed to need their craving settled to get on with their lives; both seemed to need, at the very least, two hours of time with the other.

One day, when Snape came for Harry, the boy was all bruised and cut up; it seemed he had just got away from a rather nasty beating. Snape took him immediately to their room (called that now because that's where they spent all their time together) and then forced Harry to tell him who had done it. When he found out it was, to no surprise, the Dursleys, He went into a rage. Who dared to touch his—_his!_ —Property! Harry was _his_, no one else's, and those who mistreated something that _belonged to him_ had to be dealt with. He gave Harry a drink laced with healing potions and went off to settle this…issue. When he came back, he sent Harry off to bed (in his own cupboard) and assured him that the Dursleys would not touch him ever again. And they didn't. In fact, they now seemed _scared_ of Harry, fearful of him! Harry wondered for a long time what the man had done, but couldn't figure it out, seeing no bruises or injuries of any kind on his relatives. In the end he gave up, assuming that Snape had some very special scare-tactics, and indeed, as he had seen that first night, he did appear to have some, so Harry just chalked it up to that.

This last incident happened right around the time where Harry turned the special age of ten, and two weeks after, Harry celebrated said birthday quietly, in his cupboard, hoping that Snape would come that day. He didn't. In fact, another week past after that, convincing Harry that Snape had gotten tired if him and decided not to return. Which, to Harry's surprise, threw him into a terrible depression. He had known he needed Snape, depended on him, enjoyed their time together, but he had no idea of the effect the man's absence would have on him. But now he didn't eat the small meals he was given only sometimes, couldn't bring himself to. He slept, mostly. And when he wasn't sleeping he was waiting, looking at the ceiling, trying not to think of anything.

After another two weeks he was looking under his cot for a board game he was sure he had hidden there, when something bit him. He pulled his hand back sharply and realized it was only a medium sized piece of glass, sticking out of his lower palm, which had caused the brief pain. It was then that he realized how much the little bit of blood seemed to help his depression, seemed t make the pain disappear. But soon it was back, and out of desperation he ran the glass lightly over his wrist and was rewarded by the wave of calm that swept over him.

Harry continued this until he got a letter in the mail. Now he was too intrigued, to hopeful. Maybe it was from Snape, maybe it explained his absence and promised a rescue in the near future. But he continuously was foiled in his attempts to read it by the Dursley's, until, as we all know, Hagrid showed up at that little hut. Then he was caught up in the whole idea of Hogwarts. But, when he saw Snape sitting at that head table, he suddenly wished he could take out his piece of glass and slit his wrists so deep the world went black, for the look the man was shooting him… was worthy of death.

* * *

When three weeks had passed, three weeks full of nasty comments and snide remarks, three weeks full of his new Gryffindor friends ragging on Snape and insulting him behind his back, three weeks of Snapes death glares and a little more blood on his arm each night, Harry decided he'd had enough. He walked down to the dungeons, and, getting help from an uncharacteristically helpful snake portrait that hissed at him in a language that seemed t Harry to be barely English, found Snape's rooms. He knocked timidly on the door, then harder. No one answered, so Harry tried the knob. It was locked. He pounded his fists as hard as he could against the door and then slid down, sitting against it and circling his legs with his arms. He leaned his head against his knees and cried, for a long time. Then the door opened and Harry stood up hastily, getting out of the way and tryin to wipe his tears from his red cheeks. Snape regarded him coldly.

"What do you want," he asked harshly, and Harry cringed.

I—Do you…do you still…want me?" the boy said in a very small voice, looking up tearfully at Snape. Snape looked around then grabbed Harry by the collar, tugging him inside. Harry barely got a chance to look around before he was pressed tightly against the wall, Snape's mouth over his, the man's hands running over his body in the familiar, blessed way Harry had so yearned for over the last year. When Snape's mouth broke away to trail down his neck and his hands returned to his shirtfront to undo his robes, Harry's hands grabbed weakly at the other mans black cloak, trying to tug it off. Snape shrugged out of it as he pushed Harry's own to the floor, hands sliding under the bothersome long sleeve shirt and lifting it over Harry's head. Harry had wiggled out of his most annoying pants and was now trying, unsuccessfully, to persuade the rest of Snape's clothes to disappear. But Snape didn't help him, the man was now running his hands over and over Harry's pale arms, inspecting the white scars that by now ran all the way up to his shoulders and down to his thin wrists.

"What is this?" the man demanded. Harry's eyes were shut tightly and he looked pained.

"It…I just…well, when you left, it just…it hurt so much that …well, I was looking for something and my glass bit my palm and I realized…it…it took the pain away and…" Harry babbled as Snape glared at him pointedly. And then very, very quietly Harry whispered;

"Needed you." Eyes downcast, shoulders slumped as much as they could with being held up against a wall, Harry was the perfect picture of shame. Snape sighed.

"You won't do it anymore?" he said as if it wasn't a question, more of a demand. And Harry looked up, glaring his own feeble, 11 year old glare.

"As long a you don't leave me again,"

"I can't promise that," Snape started, and before the loud mouthed first year could interrupt him, he placed a long, pale finger over his mouth. "Because there will always be times hat I will need to leave, but I can promise that I will always come back." Harry nodded, and the two returned to…more interesting things.

* * *

A/N: sooo yea. What do you think? I came up with this a long time ago, about…. a month before my wonderful laptop died (but we reanimated it) and I wasn't able to type it up until now. Please, Always reader's, don't get mad at me, because if I don't get my little oneshots out of my head, my Always writing is shit. So yes, I now have only a few more little oneshoty-details to tie up, and I expect that, in about two weeks, chapter 14 of always shall be up. But for now, my wonderful, beautiful readers, I must sleep. (Yes, I know its only 8, but I get up at 5!) ;) I do hope you review this story.

**To The people who read/have read more than one of my stories and is currently on my alert list for one or more of them:**

So, Yes, I'd like to explain what happened to my writing:

My laptop, DIED ()(). Yes, some of you might already know this through review replies and PM's. But those who don't, here you are: my laptop died and for some reason I am absolutely incapable of writing in real, live, notebook paper, with a pen, without it turning into, as my caila (captain Obliv) calls it, caveman speak. To me, its shorthand. And no matter how much planning I do beforehand, the story turns into shit anyway. So thus, as you see, I needed my laptop. I held off writing always for fear of shity writing, but did express myself with some other oneshots.

'I'm lost without you' a haiko I wrote during the course of my laptops deathish manifestation, is an example of my horrible-ness. (I actually wrote that on the PC we have that has internet, which I NEVER get time with because its in my moms room and she likes 'privacy', and when I warned her at the beginning not to put it in her room because I predicted this to become reality, she shrugged it off, but Nooo! —but that's another story) but that doesn't really matter, cause, apparently, its shit too. (No reviews, and I reread it and don't like it all that much, like twisted turns)

**To the readers of Always:**

THANK YOU, so much, for being so patient, I love you all, -huggles fore everyone-. First off, I'd like to tell all of you who sent me reviews regarding my capitalization/grammar/etc. one or two things: first, THANK YOU, and second; it might take a while, thanks to school and all, but I WILL correct all those things you pointed out.

Next, to those, very wonderfully patient people: Always should be out in about 2 weeks, as I mentioned before. The title of chapter 14 shall be called Consequences, and Harry has to…let me look at my planning (Yes, I did PLANNING) suck Snape's &#&#& ! NO, I am just kidding, you prude people (wait, are there prude fangirls?) lol.

Well, no, for a glimpse of what will happen: Harry/forbidden forest/surprise/Snape/deatheater meeting/Becca snooping/etc. Well! I am now trying to get caught up with everything after my laptop died and then was born again (with, thankfully nothing lost—memory chip was bad, not hard drive) and In, again, about two weeks, we should hopefully be up and running again, with new chapters, random oneshots, and, of course, very long, chatty, author notes—don't forget the random beta notes! I love you all, and I apologize for such an agonizingly long author note,

Kozi


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